


The Package

by thethinkingfruit



Series: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Collection [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Not Beta Read, One Shot, Open to Interpretation, Post-Canon, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 20:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20552324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethinkingfruit/pseuds/thethinkingfruit
Summary: Five years after the defeat of Nemesis, an off-handed suggestion comes to fruition.





	The Package

"Professor--I mean--your highness? I--"

"It's all right." Byleth glanced over their shoulder, away from the paper stacks littering every surface. "We've worked together for years. You may call me by my name."

It was hard for the gatekeeper to do so. He wiped his brow. A few fellow guards set the wrapped package on the floor of Byleth's study chambers. The package arrived five years to the day that they ascended. Five years since Claude disappeared to Almyra. Five years since their students and proteges settled across the continent. Each brought peace, harmony, or even found a little bit of solace after the tumultuous years at war. Not that the gatekeeper could blame them. He didn't doubt that if Byleth had gotten the chance, they too would have settled down somewhere. Byleth needed peace and quiet for at least a few months, if not for more, but was not as lucky.

Byleth rose, clad in garments of faux gold, hair glimmering in the sunlight. They were beautiful, the gatekeeper thought. Everyone thought it. Those who remembered the time of the church and the archbishop Rhea, often compared the two. The gatekeeper preferred the professor. The gatekeeper found the professor--Byleth, he corrected--radiant, even with their battle scars. Their hair was less unkempt nowadays. They let it grow longer over the years, and bound colorful ribbons into it to keep it back. Some colors he recognized--bright orange for Jeralt, their father. Others he didn't, like the white and pink that sometimes found their way into their hair. On days when rain clouded the sun, or when snow fell on Garreg Mach, they wound a a red or blue ribbon into their hair. Those smart enough to realize why wouldn't comment on it.

Today, they wore ribbons of gold to match her robes; the colors of the Leicester Alliance. Although it was now disbanded, everyone knew they had a fondness for those in their old house.

"What's this?" they asked, expression giving nothing away. Their voice was low and rough. They still didn't like speaking too much. The role of authority suited them, especially with their stoic look. They waved their hand, dismissing the other guards. The gatekeeper beamed, pleased that they let him remain. "Not another proposal, I hope."

"Not that I know of, professor," replied the gatekeeper. The package was large, roughly ten feet across and at least six feet tall. It was a harrowing experience getting it from the merchant's wagon Byleth's chambers. "It's too big for a a proposal portrait. No one peaked, though. The merchant said it was for your eyes only."

They nodded in agreement, hands grazing the oilskin leathers protecting it. 

"It came with a letter!" He held out a scroll, wound tight and sealed with a waxen crest. He didn't recognize the seal, and by Byleth's perplexed look, they didn't either. Regardless, they broke it, and let the scroll unravel to read it. They scanned it. Then they read it again, eyes widening, before they threw the letter to the ground. Byleth tore at the wrappings, the cord and tarp falling away.

The gatekeeper glanced down at the letter, catching a few snippets of words, before picking it up. Something about how the sender and their companions had spoke of it one evening. Something else about how they finally had time to make good on that promise. At the end, a curled script read, All our love to our radiant professor, Ignatz Victor. Byleth walked past him, circling the canvas, before rounding back to the front again.

"Professor? Your highness?" He paused a moment longer. "Byleth?"

Byleth looked up with tears in their eyes. Byleth, ruler of Fódlan, did not weep on the regular. They covered their face with a long, translucent sleeve to hide it. The gatekeeper floundered, before he glanced at the painting and understood.

It was a painting of the Golden Deer. Not the emblem of the disbanded alliance, but of the students. Young, fresh faced, before the horrors of war scarred them. Byleth stood in the center, almost glowing, a smile smile captured in a perfect likeness. Painted scripts stretched across on the back; little signatures, scribbles, words of encouragement and kindness from their prior students.

Byleth dried their eyes again. They sank to the ground, kneeling in front of it. A quaking hand reached out, fingertips ghosting familiar faces long since past.

The gatekeeper sat next to them.

"I know I've done the right thing," Byleth said, voice quaking, "But why must it hurt so much to know that they're gone? They get to live the lives they deserve, but--"

"It's hard, knowing that they're not here," finished the gatekeeper. "That you can't watch over them."

Byleth nodded. Their hand found the gatekeeper's. Over the years, Byleth kept their distance from people. It was safe to say that they even recoiled from physical contact. In this rare opportunity of emotion, the gatekeeper took pride in the fact that Byleth shared it with him. He was one of the few that remained at Garreg Mach.

Byleth's cold hand trembled. The gatekeeper covered their hand with his own, and the shaking subsided. Then they sat together, in silence, admiring the painting. Finally, the gatekeeper asked, "Where should we hang it?" 

"The study," Byleth says without hesitation, already glancing around the room. "I spend most of my time there. And we can get rid of that god-awful painting of the goddess that Lorenz's father commissioned."

Everyone in Garreg Mach knew of it, done in poor taste but well intentions. Byleth accepted it and hid it in her study, so only she and her occasional servants had to view it.

The gatekeeper sighed. "I hoped you would." 

Byleth paused and gave him a quizzical look. Their eyes were bleary but were clearing up quicker, now that the moment of repose was over. 

"I-I mean...well. It's just an awful portrait, you know? I don't think anyone actually liked it."

They laughed. It sounded like chimes, and the gatekeeper's heart skipped a beat. They squeezed his hand again and sighed. "It is most unfortunate. We'll keep it, of course, in case Lorenz comes to visit, but for now--yes. Can you please get someone to hang this for me? I want to see the little ones every time I'm here."

The gatekeeper nodded and reluctantly let go of Byleth's hand. "Of course, your radiance. Dry your eyes. I'll have someone bring you some tea, too." 

**Author's Note:**

> So, who remembers that cute little scene where Igntaz considers painting the Golden Deer House because they were changing the course of history? I did, and I won't lie, I was kind of sad we didn't hear anything about it afterwards, so I decided to fix that. In my first run through, Byleth wound up not pairing with anyone so the idea of them sort of just chilling but also having to cope with the fact that the people they spent the majority of the last five years with are elsewhere could be a bit...upsetting. They miss their students, their friends!
> 
> I like the idea that after everything, the gatekeeper ends up working for Byleth. Does he still guard the gate? Probably! Byleth tried to promote him but by this point he's comfortable just chilling. He's an unsung hero, folks. Someone's gotta greet everyone that wanders in and out, after all, and that's a lot of work.


End file.
